


The Borrowed Ring

by Anonymous



Category: Wooden Overcoats
Genre: (almost) drowning, Aphrodisiacs, Drowning, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Forced Orgasm, Fuck Or Die, Hostage Situations, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Loss of Virginity, Multi, Rape Recovery, Self-Sacrifice, Sex to Maintain Cover, Torture, rape revenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-12-12 17:29:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11741823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: When Eric carpools (yachtpools?) with Funn Funerals to a conference, an old enemy captures Eric and Antigone. The rival undertakers have no choice but to team up and pretend to be engaged if they want to survive their sadistic captors. Eric never really noticed exactly how fearless, beautiful, and clever Antigone was until he watched her match wits with four armed criminals...Look, this is shamelessly iddy ship fic with some fairly graphic torture and fuck-or-die scenarios, along with some implied/mostly off-screen noncon. You have been warned so don't complain. Don't like, don't read! Otherwise, enjoy yourselves!





	1. A Borrowed Ring

When Eric spotted Grayson from across the hotel lobby, his blood ran cold. Not only was Grayson himself in the lobby of a seaside conference hotel, but the crime lord was flanked by three underlings wearing poorly fitted suits and poorly concealed guns. Eric grabbed Antigone’s arm.

“We need to go,” Eric said. “Right now.”

“Go?!” Rudyard asked, outraged. “We haven’t even had dinner yet!”

“We’ve only just gotten here,” Antigone agreed, shivering at Eric’s touch. “Why are we leaving so soon?”

Madeleine squeaked her own agreement.

“I can’t say, exactly,” Eric said. “It’s… someone from my past. Someone I crossed… a long time ago.”

Georgie sighed deeply, giving him a reproachful look.

“We’re all in danger,” Eric urged. “Besides, I’m your ride! Listen, if it’s dinner you’re after, I’ve got plenty of food on the _Disco Volante_ —”

“The last thing I want is dinner with you,” Rudyard said. “Georgie! We’re going to miss the coffin-upselling panel.”

“Antigone, please!” Eric tugged on her arm. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

Antigone looked back and forth from Eric to her brother. “Ohh… fine! Georgie—”

“I’ll look after Rudyard,” Georgie said, and with that, she was off. “Rudyard! Slow down!”

Eric pulled Antigone along until they were sprinting. She could barely keep up, but he ignored her wheezes until they were safely on his yacht.

“How will Rudyard and Georgie get home?” Antigone slumped against the railing to catch her breath.

“We’ll come back for them,” Eric promised. “Or… I’ll buy them plane tickets. We’ll figure that out later.”

“Are they really in danger?”

“Hopefully not.” Eric unmoored his yacht and then dashed across the deck, checking and prepping and securing as quickly as he could. “Those men are probably only after me. Hopefully, they didn’t spot me with any of you.”

“What men?!” Antigone demanded. “Who on God's green earth is chasing us?!”

“Bad men,” Eric said. “Antigone, just… just trust me, all right?”

“What should I do if they catch us?”

“They won’t!” Eric clambered up the stairs to the cockpit. "I won't let them. Haven't gotten caught so far, have I?"

“But if they _do_.” Antigone followed him. “What should I do?”

“Cooperate, I suppose,” Eric said reluctantly. “They won’t hesitate to torture you just because you’re a woman. Do anything they tell you.”

“And pretend I’m unimportant to you? I could be a… a cook, perhaps?”

“No!” Eric felt his pockets, trying to locate his keys. “No, that’s the worst possible thing you could do. They’ll simply kill any witnesses they consider disposable. Better for you to be someone I care about.”

“Your business partner?” Antigone suggested.

“No, closer than that.” Eric huffed in annoyance at his inability to find his keys. He began turning the room over, looking for the spare. “You'll be safer as my girlfriend, or my… my…“ He stopped abruptly, his fingers brushing a velvet box he’d long since forgotten about. “Antigone, give me your left hand.”

She did so, immediately, unquestioningly. Eric opened the ring box and removed a polished platinum ring with a brilliant pink gemstone in the shape of a heart. He ached at the sight of it, but there was no time for that. He shoved it onto Antigone’s left ring finger, relieved to find it was only a little too big for her bony digit. It wasn’t her style at all—no, he’d have gotten her something priceless and old and subtle enough not to embarrass her or get in the way of embalming—but it would do the job.

Antigone just stared at the ring, a blush creeping up her neck. 

“Chapman, why do you have an engagement ring?” Antigone asked.

“No time to explain.” Eric knelt down and tore a panel off the wall. “I’m going to have to hotwire the yacht. Keep a lookout for me. And...” He opened a cabinet and passed a gun to Antigone. “Here.”

“What am I supposed to do with this?!” she demanded. "I've never held a gun before in my life! I doubt I could shoot myself point blank if I tried!"

“It’s not loaded. Just… do your best to frighten them if they get near the boat. But don’t get yourself shot.”

_“Chapman!”_

“I’m sorry! I’m doing the best I can.”

“No, I meant… look!”

Eric tugged on a wire. “Just tell me! I'm a little busy.”

A bullet whizzed past Antigone’s head, shattering the window. She dropped into a crouch. 

“I think those men have found us,” Antigone said. “Should I still threaten to shoot them?”

Eric’s sarcastic response was cut off by a canister bouncing against the far counter and landing on the floor. He crawled over the broken glass toward the door, but the knock-out gas overcame him before he could open it. So much for a quiet getaway...


	2. A First Time for Everything

The first thing Eric noticed upon coming to was that he was in the hold of the _Disco Volante_ , which was now alive and humming. The second thing he noticed was that Antigone was on top of him, and that her warm, pleasant weight was causing him… discomfort.

She stirred, moaning softly as she wiggled on top of him. Eric tried to slide out from under her, but she raised her head before he could.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“The _Disco Volante_ ’s hold,” Eric said. “They must have found the keys.”

“What was that they gassed us with?”

“Must have been knock-out gas.”

“I gathered that much. I was wondering which one.” Antigone groaned. “My head is pounding. How does yours feel?”

“Better than torture, worse than sex,” Eric quipped.

“I wouldn’t know,” Antigone said.

“You’ve never—” He tried to cross his legs. “You’re a virgin?”

"Yes."

"But surely you've... you've had an orgasm on your own, haven't you?"

"I'm familiar with the concept, in a theoretical sort of way."

"You've never had an orgasm?!"

“Oh, what does it matter? We’re going to die anyway.”

“Don’t think like that,” Eric said. “It’s only two against four. I imagine we can take them.”

“You know their routine, I assume,” Antigone said. “What will they do with us?”

“Oh, er…” Eric struggled against the zip tie on his wrist. “I’m sure they’ll just talk to me for a bit and then let us go…”

“Don’t lie to me,” Antigone snapped. “ _You_ were the one who said we made a good team. I may not be… whatever you are when you’re not an undertaker, but I’m not fragile, either. Are they planning to torture us?”

“Probably,” Eric admitted. “I’m fairly certain they want something I can’t give them, so they may, er… threaten you... a bit.”

“Threaten to rape and torture me, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“And those threats will turn to actually raping and torturing me when you can’t give them what they want?”

“That’s… not unlikely.”

 _“God_ _,”_ Antigone muttered in disgust.

“I’m so sorry I dragged you into this,” Eric said. “If I hadn’t lost my keys… I promise I’ll do my best to protect you.”

“I don’t care about that,” Antigone said. “There’s no point in caring about awful things that are going to happen to you if you can’t change or prevent them.”

“I don’t know if I can prevent this, but I can at least make it a bit less awful for you.”

“How do you mean?

“In my jacket pocket there’s a vial. I’m meant to drink it if I'm captured, to help me endure torture.”

“Should I help you drink it?”

“No, I want you to drink it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It will be easier for me to resist telling them anything of value if you’re not in pain.”

“Oh! That’s very… decent of you.”

“Will you drink it, then?”

She rummaged through his pockets until she found the vial. She opened the stopper but then hesitated.

“Can’t we split it?”

“No need,” Eric said. “I’m trained to endure torture with or without the serum. Lives depend on me being able to resist. And I’ll be able to resist a lot better if I know you’re not suffering a bit.”

“I’m quite a bit smaller than you,” she said. “Maybe I shouldn’t drink it all.”

“It won’t hurt you,” Eric said. “At worst, you might feel a little sleepy. Go on, then. Drink it.”

She reluctantly did so. When she was finished, she kissed him deeply enough for him to get a taste of the black cherry-flavored serum.

“That won’t help me much,” he said.

“Oh.”

“I appreciate the thought, though.”

She yawned and rested her head back on his chest. After a few moments, she abruptly jerked her head up. Eric braced himself for a comment on the noticeable effect her body was having on him.

“I’m lying on you,” Antigone said.

“You are.”

“Is it all right that I’m lying on you?”

“Sure. I don’t see what other choice you have.”

They both startled as the door to the hold creaked open.

“Oh good, they are awake after all,” Grayson said. “Good to see you again, Eric, old sport."

"Jack Grayson," Eric greeted him darkly. "Still convinced you live in  _The Great Gatsby_ , I see."

"Well, the man I was chasing did leave his keys behind for me. It's still the golden age for some of us." He spoke into a walkie-talkie. "They're awake. Cut the power and get down here to help us transport them."

The  _Disco Volante_ went silent again, bobbing gently on the waves of the English Channel. Footsteps descended down the stairs.

"Great." Grayson clipped his walkie-talkie to his belt. "Take them to the master bedroom.”

Grayson’s underlings pulled Antigone out of the hold first, then Eric. Once the two were upright, they were marched up the stairs and down the corridor to the master suite. With all four guns pointed his or Antigone’s direction, Eric couldn’t risk any heroic stunts. The six of them went straight into Eric’s room, and the men closed the door behind them.

“So nice of you to invite us aboard,” Grayson teased Eric. “I’m sure you and the lady here had big plans. Is she paid hourly, or…?”

There was no way Grayson could have mistaken Antigone, in her modest black dress and her worn shoes and stockings, for a sex worker. Eric still bristled, despite knowing the remark was meant to knock him off guard.

“Mr. Grayson, I’d like you to meet my fiancée, Antigone,” Eric said coolly. “Antigone, Mr. Grayson is a former… acquaintance of mine.”

“Oh, I’d say we’re still acquainted.” Mr. Grayson took Antigone’s bound hands and kissed the back of one. “ _Enchanté_ , Antigone.”

Antigone, to her credit, did not flinch or shudder or otherwise react as she rightly could have. She raised her head higher, if anything.

“The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Grayson. I don’t often meet Eric’s… acquaintances. Do you always anesthetize and tie up your business partners?”

Grayson laughed. “Only the ones I don’t want getting away. And anyone who let you get away would be an absolute fool.”

Eric could practically feel Antigone stiffen at that. He reached out and clumsily touched her elbow. After all, a real fiancé would comfort her when she was afraid.

“I think you know why we’re here, Eric.” Grayson stroked Antigone’s hands in his own. “Not to be too clichéd, but we can do this the easy way, or the very, _very_ hard way." He winked at Antigone, who just pressed her lips together. "Now, how is this going to go for our lovely Antigone?”

“I think we all know how this is going to go for me,” Antigone said. “I’d very much like to get it over with sooner rather than later.”

“Ha!” Grayson stroked his thumb down Antigone’s left cheek. “I like this one more than the last. What do you do for a living, Antigone?”

“I’m the best mortician in Piffling Vale,” Antigone said.

“She is,” Eric agreed.

“Piffling… isn’t that where Eric went to open his funeral home?” Grayson laughed. “Oh, I get it now! A little friendly competition does lead to romance, sometimes.”

“Yes, that’s us,” Antigone tittered nervously. “Very much in love. Eric and I, in love… engaged…God…”

“You two seem like the perfect couple,” Grayson said. “Forgive me, I’m a bit of a voyeur. Do you mind if I just watch?”

“Watch what?” Antigone asked.

Grayson gently guided Antigone to sit on the foot of the bed, while one of his men shoved Eric down next to her.

“I’d like to see the magic between the two of you.”

“Magic? You mean... like... sex?” Antigone asked.

“Yes! Exactly like sex.” Grayson pulled the chair out from the desk and sat in it, just a few feet away from Eric and Antigone. “The thing is, I have a hard time believing you bounced back that quickly, Eric. This girl, whoever she is… Well, she _might_ be your fiancée. But I doubt it. So why don’t you show me how well you know each other, in a physical sense.”

“I’d rather not,” Eric said. “We’re, ah, we’re a very private couple.”

The chubby gangster cocked his gun at Eric. “The boss said he wants to watch you and your fiancée.”

Antigone grabbed Eric by the collar and kissed him.

“Yes, Eric, make love to me, Eric, darling!” she giggled. “Oh Eric, I simply must have your, erm, your impressive manhood deep inside my… my trembling quim, Eric!”

Someone snorted. “Her trembling what now?”

“Eric, I’ve always wanted to have relations with you in front of other people, Eric! It’s so—” She giggled again. “—so _taboo_ , so very naughty, Eric, don’t you think, Eric?”

Antigone nudged Eric with her foot. He caught her eye and saw her panic and inexperience mounting. She was putting on the best show she could, but she needed his help.

“Well, if you insist, Darling,” he said. “At the very least, I ought to make you feel good, don’t you think?”

“Oh, yes, Eric! Yes, Eric, please…”

“Trust me,” he said with a little smile. “Lie back for me.”

“Oh… okay, yes.”

“I’ll try to make sure nothing hurts,” he said into her ear as he pushed her skirt up her thighs. “Just try to relax.”

Antigone sighed, melting into his arms.

Eric wasn’t sure how much of her reaction was acting, and how much was nerves, and how much was real. Nonetheless, he was determined to do right by her. He kissed her tentatively as his bound hands explored her body. She was impossibly responsive to his touch; every little brush of his fingers or lips made her moan. Eric had never had trouble pleasing the ladies (or anyone, for that matter), but Antigone was gratifying on an entirely new level.

He pulled down her knickers and slid them past her feet, sliding himself off the bed at the same time. He pulled down her stockings and kissed her bare knees before spreading them apart. Her sex was covered by a dainty patch of dark curls, its musky scent reminiscent of honey and amber. He spent a moment slightly hypnotized by it, and then he dove in.

Antigone gasped as his tongue found her most sensitive spot. “Eric!” Her hands clutched his hair. “Oh! Eric, yes, please!”

Eric lapped at her, feeling strangely at home between her pale thighs. If nothing else, he would try to make up for some of the fantastic shittiness of their predicament. He relished the rush of wetness his tongue and finger solicited from her in tandem.

"Oh! Oh, gosh, that's a lot..."

"Relax," he urged her. "It only feels like a lot when you're tense."

Her moans were suddenly sparser now, though. Perfunctory. Eric glanced up. No wonder she was distracted again, with her eyes on all the guns aimed at her.

“Antigone?”

She gazed back down at Eric. “Hm?”

“Focus on me, _ma belle_.” He smiled at her, and tense as it was, it seemed to be more entrancing than the guns shoved in her face.

“Oh, French! I like it when you speak to me in French, Eric."

"Is it helping you relax?"

"A bit, yes, I think so."

“I know this is a bit less… private… than our bedroom,” Eric joked. “Might as well break out the whips and chains, am I right?”

“Whips… and chains…?” Antigone convulsed. “Ohhhhh, Christ…”

“I’ve gotten you all excited.” He caressed her inner thigh lightly with his lips. “But which of us are you picturing chained up right now?” He pressed his mouth to her clit again, satisfied he'd sufficiently diverted her attention back to him.

“You!” she gasped. “Oh, Eric, I want to chain you up in a dungeon and whip you until you beg for mercy!”

“Mmm,” he said into her. "Mmhmm."

"You'd like that, would you?"

"God, yes, Antigone," he murmured as he surfaced for air. "I would love that."

"I've wanted to tie you to my bed and have my way with you since I first met you," Antigone went on. "I've been dreaming about spanking that perfect backside ever since I first saw it. I just didn't expect you would be into that sort of thing... Oh, goodness, why am I saying all this?"

Eric had been hard before, but he was throbbing now. Antigone, aroused and disinhibited by the serum, was responding perfectly. Her wetness dripped down Eric’s lips and chin like a juicy, decadent fruit. He gently worked two fingers inside her, then pushed a third into her rear entrance.

“Oh God, Eric! That feels… obscene!”

“Oh, sorry...” He removed his finger.

“I didn’t say stop!"

Eric wiggled his finger back inside her. How odd was it, that he was the first person to ever touch her this way? She was so close now; he could tell from her breathing. He carefully added one last finger to her, opening her up to three fingers' girth. He prayed that would be enough.

“Eric, Eric, oh dear God, Eric, don't stop doing that!” She grabbed him by the hair, forcing his mouth tight against her. Her hips rocked as she came hard, her whole body trembling around Eric.

He emerged for air as soon as she released her hold on him. "Not bad for our first time with an audience," he said.  _Not bad for a first time, full stop_ , he thought.

"That was amazing, Eric," Antigone sighed. "Brilliant, breathtaking, phenomenal... I love you."

He pulled himself back onto the bed next to her and kissed her, letting her taste herself. "And I love you," he said, so as to seem like a convincing fiancé.

Antigone's pupils were massive. The serum must be in full effect by now. Eric gave her one last kiss for good measure, already dreading what was to come.

“All right, enough playing around.” Grayson snapped his fingers. “Tie Chappers up and let's get started. Mitchell, you'd better _pray_ you brought the right size pliers for his nipples this time, or so help me...”


	3. A Final Amusement

After two hours at the hands of Grayson and his men, Antigone looked as spent as Eric felt. While he dripped with his own blood, she dripped from the bath water they’d shoved her head under over and over again. She mirrored Eric's exhaustion from where she sat on the bed, her arms now bound behind her back like his.

“Still all right, Antigone?” Eric asked.

“Still all right,” she answered wearily. “And you?”

“Still all right.” Eric spit out a tooth fragment. “A bit tired.”

“As am I.”

Her eyes had been drooping for the past half hour. Eric thought she might have even dozed off once or twice, but he’d been too busy focusing on his own pain to be sure.

“Hey, Boss,” the skinny guy said. “I could use a sandwich before we get back into it.”

Grayson checked his watch. “Oh, what do you know? It is about time for the evening meal. I think we have time to slack off a bit, first, though. Have some fun.” He sat down next to Antigone on the bed, putting his arm around her shoulders. “Any requests?”

“I don’t suppose you’d let us go?” Antigone offered dully.

Grayson laughed. “I like you, Antigone. Like I said, I really am sorry Eric’s done all this to you. If it were up to me, I’d have let you go, but he decided work was more important than you. No hard feelings toward me, right?”

Antigone didn’t answer.

“Any requests for dinner?” Grayson asked Antigone gently. He was always like that—as if he didn’t plan to brutally murder Antigone the second Eric told him what he wanted to know.

“No,” Antigone said. “I’m not hungry.”

“A drink, then?” Grayson suggested.

“Some water, please.”

Grayson snapped his fingers, and a bottle of water appeared in his hand a moment later. He helped Antigone drink, murmuring ostensibly kind words, such as "Right, let’s rehydrate our girl,” and “Sorry, I should have checked on you sooner.” 

Antigone eventually tried to turn her head to stop drinking, but he held her in place and forced the bottle into her mouth. He kept pouring as she choked, ignoring the water cascading down the front of her white satin slip.

“Sorry about that.” Grayson crushed the empty water bottle and threw it in a rubbish bin. “I couldn’t tell if you wanted me to stop or keep going.”

Antigone was apparently too tired to glare anymore. She barely seemed to have the energy to cough up all the water she’d just inhaled. Eric made a mental note to watch her for pneumonia over the next days.

“Could I please have a towel?” Antigone asked hoarsely. “Or a blanket? I’m very cold.”

“I have a better idea,” Grayson said.

Eric knew he shouldn’t be aroused by Antigone's wet, nearly naked form, given the circumstances. It wasn’t all of him, nor was it constant. And the decent part of his brain was still trying to argue with the baser, more primitive parts of his brain that hadn’t evolved yet. Sadly, that part of his brain was shamefully and determinedly focused on one thing, and one thing only.

_ Good Lord, her breasts are amazing...  _

_ Stop. That’s our friend Antigone, and she’s just been through hell because of those breasts. _

_ But she’s excited. Look at her pink face and wet skin and hard nipples and— _

_ Stop! If her body seems physically excited, it’s purely a reaction to the serum we gave her earlier. _

_ But she’s beautiful… I want to kiss her and hold her and smell her neck while I make love to her— _

_ STOP! What is wrong with you? Gah, get it together, Eric… _

Grayson was pulling Antigone onto her feet, his hand in her wet hair. He walked her over to Eric amidst the sounds of snickering from his employees. They were as well-acquainted as Eric with Grayson's sadistically voyeuristic side.

“I’m sure Chappers will be happy to warm you up,” Grayson said. “I think he’s been looking forward to this since earlier. He definitely took notice when I doused you with that water just now.”

Antigone realized what Grayson had in mind a few seconds after Eric. Her expression was so defeated Eric nearly lost hope, too.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked as they hoisted her onto Eric’s lap. “I don’t think it will make him tell you which of your friends works for MI-5 now.”

“All work and no play makes Jack start cutting off toes.” Grayson grabbed one of Antigone’s exposed toes and wiggled it like a loose tooth.

“She’s cooperating,” Eric said. “There’s no need to scare her.”

“You know how it is when you’re at work,” Grayson said. “Hard to turn off that customer service voice.”

He pushed Antigone down, and with a tiny gasp, she enveloped Eric. She bit her lip and refused to meet Eric’s eyes.

“Antigone.”

“Nothing, shut up, go away!”

“Antigone, look at me.” 

“I can’t look at you, because I’m barely holding things together as it is, and if I look at you I’ll start thinking about home, and if I think about home I’ll cry for sure.”

“Don't think about home, then. Think about Paris.”

“Paris?”

“Remember when we went to fetch Mrs. Merriweather together?” 

There was no Mrs. Merriweather and Eric had never been to Paris with Antigone. But he needed to take her mind off the situation.

“Oh. Yes, I... I do remember...”

“We got caught in that storm and took shelter in the catacombs. It was just the two of us with the thunder and the wind above. I spread the picnic blanket out and we drank the rest of that bottle of Chablis, and then we made love right there. And when we were finished, I pulled out the ring and proposed to you, both of us still completely naked. And then that tour of primary schoolers came through… remember?”

“Right, yes, of course! How could I forget that? Silly me…”

Eric could almost forget the hands between them, groping Antigone. Given that he didn’t think they’d give her any reprieve until she did what she wanted, until she gave up her last shred of dignity, he hoped for Antigone's sake she could forget the hands as well.

“You have such beautiful eyes,” he said. It was meant to take her mind off the situation, but it was true, too. “I love looking at them while we make love.”

“Make… love?” She swallowed.

“Of course. That’s what we’re doing now, isn’t it? I care about you so much, Antigone. I want you to feel amazing. Are you enjoying yourself, Antigone?”

“You’re saying my name an awful lot,” she murmured. 

“It’s a beautiful name. Should I say it less?”

“No! No,  _ please _ keep saying it.”

“That’s the spirit, Antigone. Christ, you’re absolutely amazing.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Of course I do. I’ve never met anyone remotely like you.”

“Oh, Eric! Tell me more!”

“You’re the most brilliant embalmer I’ve ever met. Your technique is… unparalleled. When I watched you find that artery… it’s really like an art for you, isn’t it?”

“I follow the colors.”

“How do you see them? You keep your mortuary so dark…”

“My eyes have adjusted. I’ve been working in the mortuary since I was a child.”

“That explains it.”

Her eyes were wandering again, her muscles growing tense as she looked around the room at their captors.

“Keep your eyes on me, Antigone. It’s just you and me right now. Do you hear that thunder? I’ve always thought storms were terribly romantic, even before Paris. The rain is a really lovely soundtrack for making love, isn’t it?”

“Yes, mmhmm.” Antigone was flushed all over now.

“You feel amazing, Antigone. I can barely restrain myself when I’m inside you.”

“Me either,” she whispered. “That is to say… I can barely restrain myself, either.”

“Well, don’t, then,” he said. “Just relax and enjoy yourself. There’s nothing we can do to stop this, so we may as well enjoy it, right?”

“I… I suppose…” 

“Good. I want you to enjoy yourself if you can. Are you warm enough now?”

“Yes… yes, I can feel your heat inside of me. Throbbing… pulsing… Oh  _ God… _ ” 

He leaned in to kiss and nibble her neck, ignoring the worst bruises. “I want you to orgasm for me. Please, Antigone.”

Antigone whimpered. “No, no, no… not like this. Ow!” She grimaced. “Stop that! Stop it!”

The hands were getting more impatient, pinching and squeezing and prodding Antigone. Eric was afraid of what might happen if she didn’t acquiesce, and fast.

“Shh,” Eric soothed her. “It’s just you and me and the rain,  _ mon coeur _ ."

Antigone moaned.

"Why don’t you ride me gently until we both orgasm? Please, Antigone?”

With a resigned sigh, she moved clumsily, doing her best to ride him despite her bonds and her inexperience.

“Keep looking at me,” Eric coaxed. When her eyes met his again, he smiled. “That's it. If you keep moving like that..."

"Yes?"

"Fuck, Antigone, I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard in my life." Eric let his head fall back. "I need it. I need _you_. Fuck me as hard as you please, Antigone!”

Her pupils dilated so intensely her eyes were nearly black. “Oh! Oh, Eric, yes, I’m going to. I’m going to fuck you like I’ve always wanted, like, like riding a stallion at full gallop...”

“That’s the spirit. God, you’re so incredible.” He bit his lip as she rode him frantically, drenching him with her excitement. “Fuck! I’m going to explode. Oh, I love you, Antigone. I love you so much—”

She exploded into paroxysms of her own at that, grinding against him and clenching tight around him and kissing him deeply. It was all too much for Eric, who immediately succumbed to her body’s demands. He wanted to keep kissing her as their orgasms faded, to share the burden of humiliation. But Antigone was too distraught and embarrassed to even notice.

“Yes, all right, fine!” she wept. “You’ve all proved your point! I’m the type of woman who orgasms indiscriminately no matter what the circumstances! Please just let me die now.”

“Shh, no, Antigone...” Eric fought the haze of endorphins to try to console her. “You have nothing to—"

“Kill me now,” she kicked herself away from him. “Please just kill me. You’ve all humiliated me so abjectly I can never recover. Please just kill me already.”

They simply laughed at her as they pulled her off Eric and laid her on the floor.

“You two have fun,” Grayson said. “We’re off to find some supper. We’ll be back to play more in a bit.”

With that, they left Eric and Antigone alone and bound. Eric was surprised no one stayed to guard them, but then, there was no place the two of them could go that wasn’t past the galley.

“Awful, awful, awful,” Antigone was muttering. She rolled onto her side so Eric couldn’t see her face. “Inconceivably humiliating. Why can’t I just die from embarrassment? I’d like to die now...”

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, Antigone,” Eric said kindly. “You and I know better than anyone here how nuanced the human body is. Besides, I… I enjoyed it.”

That stopped her crying.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” she said. “You don’t have to patronize me like a child!”

“I’m not! I truly enjoyed the connection we had just now.”

She sniffled. “Really?”

“Of course,” he said. “I orgasmed too, didn't I? But right now I’d very much like to get us out of here. Will you help me?”

“Of course.” Antigone shut her tears off like a faucet, setting her jaw. “What do we do?”

“I have a knife in my sock,” Eric said. “If you can get it into my hand, I should be able to cut through your ropes.”

It took a bit of dexterity from both of them, but after a few moments, Eric had freed Antigone, who was shakily cutting him free.

“You’re doing beautifully,” he encouraged her. “I never realized how brave you were.”

“You don’t have to flatter me,” Antigone said. “I’d free you regardless.”

“I’m not trying to flatter you,” Eric said. “I’m not the flattering type. Or… I suppose I am, but I don’t mean to be.”

“No, I don’t suppose you do.” Antigone sawed at the rope. “You just say exactly what you mean and everyone swoons. Damn your perfect, cunning tongue…”

His bonds gave, and Eric stretched his arms. “Brilliant! Thank you.”

She quickly cut through his ankle ropes, and the two of them took a moment to shake out their muscles and massage each other’s aching elbows.

“How will we escape?” Antigone asked. “Should we sneak past them and steal a lifeboat?”

“I don’t think we’ll be able to,” Eric said. “We may have to fight them.”

“Ah, yes, right… fighting… I don’t imagine I’ll be of much use in a fight.”

Eric scanned the room, considering all the options. He handed Antigone his knife and then lifted the bedside lamp, which was hiding another thin blade.

“I’ll hide in the closet,” he said. “Why don’t you be the bait?”

“Me?! Why do I have to be the bait?! I don’t want to be—”

“Being bait means you get to take a nap.”

“I’ll be the bait.” Antigone crawled onto the bed and immediately fell asleep, curled up for warmth.

Eric covered her with a throw and then stopped to admire her. Even sopping wet and drugged, Antigone was stubborn. He liked it. He thought she would have made an excellent MI-5 agent, had she been so inclined.

But there was no time for that. Footsteps were approaching from the galley. Eric tipped the chair behind the bed, so whoever was coming would have to walk around the bed to check it, and then he hid behind the door and waited.


	4. A Fitting Conclusion

There was never any feeling quite as satisfying as killing rapists. Eric took out two silently before anyone managed to alert Grayson that he’d gotten free. He took down the third with some grappling, which led to a long, drawn-out fight with Grayson, which Antigone completely slept through. She didn't even stir when they knocked over a lamp.

“Antigone?” Eric shook her foot, then quickly resumed his choke hold on Grayson. "Antigone, wake up!"

She awoke with a start. “Please, no, don’t— Oh. Hullo, Eric.”

“Hullo, Antigone. Would you like me to torture Grayson for you before I kill him?”

“No, just kill him.” Antigone fell back against the pillow with a yawn.

"All right, then." Eric brandished his bloody knife. “You heard the lady.”

“Wait.” Antigone raised her head again. “Don’t make it quick. You should…yes, you should drown him, I think.”

“As you wish!” Eric said chipperly. “Off we go!”

He dragged Grayson’s sturdy form into the bathroom. He contemplated the now-empty bathtub, then instead opened the lid of the toilet.

“Hope you don’t mind! This just seems more fitting for you.” Eric shoved Grayson’s head into the toilet and held it down.

The struggling weakened after only a few seconds, and after a minute or so, Grayson’s body went limp. But Eric, having received the same training as Grayson, kept the head submerged for another few minutes. Just to be safe, he slit Grayson’s throat before straightening up and washing his own bruised hands.

“Antigone?” He returned to the bedroom, wiping his hands gingerly on a towel. “Antigone, you can wake up now.”

“No, I can’t,” she mumbled into the pillow. “I’m so very tired.”

“I need to know what you’d like to do,” Eric said. “We can’t very well go to the police with four dead bodies. But if you’d like to make a statement and have evidence collected—”

“What good will that do?”

“I… well… it…” Eric scratched his head. “Er… I’m not sure.”

“I’ll just sleep, thank you,” Antigone said.

“Would you like any food? A shower?”

“I’d like to sleep!” Antigone raised her head solely to glare at him through heavy lids. “I don’t care if I have to die to do it!  _ Just let me sleep, for God’s sake _ !”

Eric shrugged and left her to her drugged sleep. He dragged the bodies to the railing one by one and tossed them over. It was easier said than done with a couple of broken fingers. By the time Eric was finished, he was ready to sleep, too.

He didn’t know whether Antigone would find it disturbing or comforting if he slept in the same room as her. But he wanted to be near if she needed him, and the king-size bed was awfully big. He fell into the bed and passed out nearly as soon as he hit the top-quality foam and latex mattress with seven support zones.

He awoke in surprise to… snuggling? Yes, sure enough, Antigone was rubbing her head against his chest. Her hair had dried in all sorts of directions while she slept, and Eric found it strangely endearing. He pushed the hair out of her face, and she opened her eyes.

“Am I still dreaming?” she whispered.

“I don’t think so,” Eric said.

She stared from him to the floor to the dark windows. “Grayson, and the others… are they—?”

“Fish food,” Eric assured her. “I didn’t think they deserved a proper burial, at sea or otherwise.”

“No, they didn’t.” Antigone relaxed, stretching her legs out. She froze suddenly. “Will more people like them come looking for you? For us?”

“I don’t think so,” Eric said. “Grayson and I used to be colleagues, you could call us. It was a long time ago, but I still know how his brain works. He sounded desperate. And that would align with what I’ve heard lately about his little criminal empire… No, I don’t think more will come after us.”

“Good. Excellent. How does your body feel?”

“My body?”

“Teeth, fingers, nose.”

“Ah! They’ll be all right. Thanks for asking. How about your… body?” He leaned in to see her neck. “That bite mark looks nasty. Would you like me to clean it—?”

“No! It’s fine! I’m fine.” Antigone pushed him away. “You don’t need to touch me. Especially not before I’ve had a shower.”

He had done more than touch her a few hours ago, but he simply nodded and rose from the bed. “I’ll fetch us some painkillers. And food. And tea.”

He started a bath for her and then painfully made his way around the kitchen. He taped his fingers up then whipped up two omelets, a rasher of bacon, and a pot of tea before the water finished running.

“Breakfast is ready,” Eric said from the doorway of the bathroom.

“Is it breakfast time?”

“Well, we’ve just woken up, haven’t we? Do you want to eat in the tub?”

“Oh, why not? It’s not the strangest thing I’ve done the past twenty-four hours.” Antigone pushed the curtain aside. “I don’t hurt in the water, at least.”

“I’m glad.” Eric handed her a plate and poured her a mug of tea, then sat on the closed toilet to eat his own meal. “I’m sure the painkillers will kick in soon.”

“Mm.”

They ate in silence, aside from the ocean noises and the soft scraping and clinking of silverware and china

“God,” Antigone finally muttered.

“What?”

“All I’ve ever wanted was for someone,  _ anyone  _ to hold me and make love to me and tell me they loved me. And then you… you came into town with your perfect hands and your stunning blue eyes and your impeccable business acumen, and I wanted that person to be  _ you _ . I think everyone wishes that, on Piffling at least. But not like this! Oh,  _ why  _ did it have to be like this?!”

“I’m so sorry, Antigone. I can never make up for it, but I’ll help however I—”

“There’s no recovering from the humiliation,” Antigone was mumbling again. “I’ll have to fake my own death and flee to San Marino.”

“I know a thing or two about that,” Eric said. “I can help with the papers, if you like. What’s the reason, though?”

“I don’t understand why—why I orgasmed for them. Only the once, of course.”

“Of course,” Eric said kindly.

“But it’s....upsetting. I wasn’t attracted to them.”

“No, of course not,” Eric said. “Antigone, you do realize that’s what the serum is meant to do, don’t you?”

“What?”

“It’s a mix of… well, quite a lot of things. But I know for certain there was a strong muscle relaxer and aphrodisiac in there. You were meant to orgasm easily, and lubricate easily, and feel very little pain, and generally avoid as much physical and psychological trauma as possible under the circumstances.”

Antigone sank down into the bath. “An aphrodisiac.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“And a muscle relaxer?”

“A powerful one, I believe.”

“I didn’t spontaneously orgasm from being violated.”

“I don’t believe so, no,” Eric said. “Human physiology is strange, of course, but I rather think it was probably the aphrodisiac.”

“Aphrodisiac,” Antigone muttered. “Of course, of course, yes… I can’t believe I never thought of that.”

She was trembling violently, despite the heat and steam.

“Would you like some help washing your hair?” Eric asked.

“What?”

“Your hair.” Eric gestured. “I’ll help you with it if you like.”

“Oh. Yes, that would be very helpful, if you wouldn’t mind. My arms are shaking so much I can hardly move them.”

Eric knelt by the tub and gingerly lathered Antigone’s long hair.

“What happened earlier, between us…” He paused, making her tense under his fingers. “I hope it was… what I mean to say is that it was special to me, despite the circumstances."

"It was?" Her eyes opened, scanning his face suspiciously.

"Yes. I thought it was, well, it was really rather romantic in some ways." He nudged her to lean back in the water so he could rinse the suds from her hair. "I understand if you'd prefer not to see me again after all this. It would be perfectly understandable. But I'd enjoy spending more time with you again. When you feel up to it, of course."

Her eyes relaxed. "In what sense? A romantic sense?"

"In whatever sense you'd like," Eric said. "It doesn't have to be romantic! I know you've just been through an... ordeal. I just don't want us to become distant after this. It's easy, after something like this, to drift apart."  


"You've done this before?"

"Not exactly. Something like it. A long time ago..."

"And you drifted apart?"

"In a manner of speaking."

Antigone closed her eyes, her hair flowing gently around her shoulders in the water. "I don't want us to drift apart either."

"Come over for tea, then. I'll cook for you again."  


"You are a very good cook," she said. "Of course you are. All right, Chapman... Eric. I'll come by for tea when I feel like it."

Her words were coy, but she had a rare smile on her lips as she said it. Eric cupped bathwater over her hair and massaged her head gently as he cleaned her.

 


End file.
